


Stars Fading, But I Linger on Dear

by ThreeWhiskeyLunch



Series: Dreamland [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Horizon fix-it, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 13:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9610193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeWhiskeyLunch/pseuds/ThreeWhiskeyLunch
Summary: This is for Dear Nonny, who sent me the following request on Tumblr:I wish you'd write a fix about Kaidan's POV on Horizon where he actually like, kisses MShep but still doesn't go with him on the collector mission. For that "I wish you would" prompt. iDKNeedless to say, I was more than happy to fulfill that request and it is now headcannon for these two dorks.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from [ Dream a Little Dream of Me, by Ella Fitzgerald.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j6TmogXhOZ8)

He can’t explain why he himself wasn’t picked up and dumped into a pod. Why he’s alive, vomiting into the soft, green grass on his hands and knees; shaking from shock and the drugs that had coursed through his veins before they had frozen him in place.  
  
His brain feels sluggish, unable to remember for frightening moments where he is, what his name even is. He hears the firefight on the other side of the compound, his limbs so weak he’s unable to stand. But the noise of gunfire, explosions, shouts of soldiers all make his heart pound heavily in his chest. Clouds drift over the sun, cooling the air while he trembles, his biotics flaring in the chaos of a waking nightmare.  
  
The surface-to-air guns begin to fire and he remembers the hours, the days he spent trying to bring them online; and the resistance he’d had from the locals in his attempts. He coughs, breathes in the fresh air, manages to pull himself up to lean against a prefab structure. The ship--strangely organic in design--rumbles as it fires its engines, pulls up and away with the colonists nestled in their pods. Kaidan groans and clutches his head, fighting back the migraine that threatens to lay him out flat.  
  
He manages to stumble between the buildings, dead collectors and husks scattered in a trail along the way. He turns the corner and hears that familiar voice he never thought to hear again. A voice that makes him want to weep and scream and laugh.  
  
It’s not possible.  
  
And yet, it is.  
  
“John.” He breathes his name, his feet carrying him forward. Intense blue eyes that pull him along, the weight in his heart succumbing to the gravity of John Shepard. “ _John_ ,” he says again, because he never thought to say his name, not after what happened, not after the Normandy was blown to pieces and Shepard burned up in the atmosphere of Alchera.  
  
“Kaidan,” Shepard says, and his voice breaks with emotion, stepping toward him, a small smile lighting up his face. In the midst of taking off his greaves, he tosses them to the ground. “Oh—”  
  
They fall together from inescapable gravity; armors clapping and scraping, Shepard’s fingers on his cheeks. Kaidan’s thoughts stutter over that it’s Garrus that stands behind Shepard, along with another human male in yellow armor that scowls at them. But his eyes are only for John, his lips and body only for him as he kisses Kaidan, his mouth crushing down on his. Kaidan’s arms slide around John’s back, holding him with a fierceness born from two years of sorrow and bitter loneliness.  
  
He wants to tell John everything: waking up without him; clutching at the pillow and breathing in, wishing it were him; all the tears he shed; all the pain in his heart at the thought of life without him. Instead he kisses John and tries to put it all into the pressure of his mouth, the swipe of his tongue, the bite of his teeth.  
  
John says, “I’m sorry,” against his lips, breathing in a gasp and breathing out “I’m sorry--I’m sorry—” again and again until Kaidan’s face is wet with tears, his knees trembling from relief and anguish.  
  
“I know, John. I know.” He pulls back because he wants to see him again with his own eyes, wants to fill himself up with Shepard until his head catches up with his heart. But he’s too full, can’t take being so close, so he closes his eyes and buries himself in John’s neck, breathing in the scent that he’s missed, wishes he could capture and carry with him. A choking groan escapes his throat, a half-cry of pain and love. Shepard kisses his temple, cards his fingers through his hair, and whispers in his ear how much he’s missed him, how sorry he is.  
  
Kaidan looks over John’s shoulder, eyeing the older man who for all he knows is deep in Cerberus’ pocket. He takes John’s arm in his, pulls him away, back to the wall that surrounds the courtyard.  
  
“I tried...Anderson, Hackett. I tried—” John says.  
  
“I know.”  
  
“They’d only tell me you were alive.”  
  
“There were rumors, about you. They didn’t tell me anything, either.”  
  
“I didn’t want to--I can’t trust Cerberus. I know they’re watching everything I do, reading all my messages. I couldn’t risk contacting you. I don’t want you dragged into this—”  
  
“Shepard. _John_ —”  
  
“I don’t want them getting their claws into you, too. I know it makes it hard to trust me. But please believe, it’s me—”  
  
“I know.” He looks up then, locks his gaze with Shepard’s so the other man can see that he's trying so hard to believe. He studies him then, searches the beloved face he’s missed so dearly. His fingers ghost across John’s cheek. “Your scar is gone...”  
  
“Yeah. All my scars. All my ink. Gone. It’s so strange. Looking in the mirror. It’s me, you know? And yet...different. Like I’ve been scrubbed clean.” John’s fingers trace along the curve of his jaw. “But...what about you? Are you...okay?”  
  
Kaidan shakes his head, an automatic reflex. He hasn’t been okay for a long time. “I...it’s been hard. Two years, John.”  
  
It’s his turn to say, “I know.” But then he says, “I wouldn’t have hurt you for the world. Not on purpose.”  
  
Kaidan knows this to be true. He also knows there isn’t time. Not for them. Not right now. “Someday. I want to hear the story.”  
  
John nods, his smile sad, but still hopeful. “Someday.” He looks around the courtyard, seems to remember where they are and what just happened. “I can’t...we can’t stay—”  
  
“You can’t trust them, John. You don’t have to go back. You don’t owe them anything—”  
  
“You know I have to. They’re the only ones willing to do anything about these attacks.”  
  
“No. I know.” And he does. Even though he wishes it weren’t true. “The Alliance can only do so much, especially out here in the Traverse.” He releases his hold--oh, how he wishes he didn’t have to let go--and takes a step back, looking over John’s shoulder at the two people standing awkwardly several paces away. “How are you, Garrus?”  
  
“Never better,” Garrus quips back, but he can hear the strained notes of his subvocals.  
  
Kaidan tries to smile, but it’s forced. His cheeks pull awkwardly in what he’s pretty certain is more of a grimace than anything else. “Take care of him for me, okay?”  
  
He wishes he knew more about turian body language. Garrus’ mandibles flutter and he steps back, then forward again as if he’s changed his mind. “I’ve got his six,” he says eventually, and Kaidan can hear the unspoken words ringing loud and clear in the soft, summer air. _Even if you don’t._ He resigns himself to this. Resigns himself to not being at Shepard’s side.  
  
“I’ll try to get you a message,” John says. “Somehow. I don’t know how or when—”  
  
“Use the old account,” he says, purposefully not telling him which. Because there’s only one other person who knows which email account that might be, and he sincerely hopes he’s standing there right in front of him.  
  
“BioticBacon?” John whispers and Kaidan nods, a real smile breaking over his face this time.  
  
He takes a step back and then another and another, his eyes never leaving John’s. Afraid to look away. Because what if he _is_ just a ghost? What if he’s dreamed the entire thing and will wake up clutching at the air? His heart breaks all over again with the thought.  
  
“You’re real, aren’t you?” He’s far enough away, he’s not sure if John will hear his whisper, carried away by the breeze.  
  
But Shepard nods, blue eyes shimmering in the sunlight. “I’m real, Kaidan. I assure you...I’m real.”  
  
And that’s enough. For now. It’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! And thank you, Nonny, for the prompt!


End file.
